Blurred Dreams
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: Ping, with her limited knowledge of the world before her freedom, could only dream so far. And adventures with dragons wasn't on the list.
1. 1

**A/N:** Entire collection is written for the Another Mega Prompts Challenge, writing prompts #18 – roll four six-sided die. The sum is how many entries your poetry collection should have. My rolls add up to 10, so that means 10 poems in this collection.

This particular poem is also written for the Call it Heads or Tails Challenge, 2a.1 (heads) – write in first person present tense, and for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #026 – industrious.

* * *

 **Blurred Dreams**

 **1.**

Dreams are the blurred image, after  
the painted flowers fade away  
into sleep when even the aches of my bones  
cannot soak the canvas black.  
But those dreams: I have a brush  
and my mind, the canvas, but no skill,  
no clear image to paint, save those flowers  
in the frame on the hall that I count, the old servant's trick,  
to quiet a restless mind. My heart  
longs for other pictures, brighter pictures,  
but they're all indistinguishable blurs  
and simple words, because that's all I know:  
the tales I've been told, the tales I've heard  
and the small dose of the world I've seen  
with my own eyes.


	2. 2

This particular poem is also written for the Call it Heads or Tails Challenge, 2a.3 (tails) – write in third person present tense, and for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #015 – joyous.

* * *

 **2.**

Kai is happy here.

She knows it.  
She feels it.  
She sees it.

A part of her doesn't quite want to believe it.  
It's too quick, after all.  
It's over already.  
She's the sad mother holding in her tears,  
watching her child dash off  
and she has to let him, even though she wants  
to pull him back, hold him close.

She can't. She never could.  
She's still a child herself. Not a mother  
but she is still his mother, isn't she?  
But she isn't. Not really.  
There was another word for what she does,  
what she is:

Dragonkeeper.  
Human.  
Kai is happy here  
but it's not a place for humans.


	3. 3

This particular poem is also written for the Call it Heads or Tails Challenge, 3a.1 (heads) – write a fic with the main character looking forward, and for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #021 – purple.

* * *

 **3.**

She looks at the beautiful  
purple-swirling stone  
and wonders  
what a baby'll be like.

She's seen many animals in her life.  
Heard many tales in her life.  
But everyone is old, aside from her.  
The master, the servants, the animals  
all locked away in their pens.

The old emperor's dead though.  
There's a new one. Young, like her.  
A new dragon on the way as well,  
taking form within those purple swirls  
as greed and time chased them down.  
She doesn't think much of him.  
She doubts she'll ever meet him  
because ex-slaves didn't go around  
meeting emperors.

But that's fine. She can see a baby  
in her future: a baby dragon, and Danzi  
still by her side, and a wide world  
with a blue ocean at the end of it all  
and that's enough.


	4. 4

This particular poem is also written for the Call it Heads or Tails Challenge, 3a.2 (tails) – write a fic with the main character looking back, and for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #018 – cracker.

* * *

 **4.**

She travels now, and yet the food is rich  
and her callouses slowly fade.  
She is pampered like a princess  
sometimes, all the time.  
The comb, the pin in her hair,  
the dress to replace her tunic  
and the tunic as it burns…

She travels now, but she's better off.  
She's free, first of all.  
She's learning to count, and other useful skills.  
One day she'll learn to read as well.  
She learns to fight too; she already knows  
how to cook  
and she learns her job  
this time, by the book.  
The care of a dragon, which she's done  
almost all her life, but now she does it properly:  
hears his voice, sees her smile.

She's a freed slave, a traveller  
but she is rich.


	5. 5

This particular poem is also written for the Call it Heads or Tails Challenge, 3a.3 (heads) – write a fic with the main character looking forward, and for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #030 – military.

* * *

 **5.**

She's not naïve enough to think  
they'll make it out without  
being chased right back down.  
They're both owned, after all,  
owned by the greedy lump of man  
who'll yell as soon as he learns they're gone.

Or perhaps he won't. He's dug his grave  
and maybe they'll dig it deeper, cover him  
and leave him there.  
Maybe that's why the Imperial army is here  
but they'll see the missing dragon  
even if a missing slave of many  
slips through the cracks.

They'll be hunted. He'll be hunted  
and she with her  
but still, she can't help but follow  
after him because it's freedom now

And even death in the future is better  
than being a slave throughout.


	6. 6

This particular poem is also written for the Call it Heads or Tails Challenge, 4a.1 (tails) – write a fic with the prompt "believe", and for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #22 – jellyfish.

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 **6.**

Everything is against her.  
There's no dragon by her side,  
no mirror in her pouch,  
no egg or precious dragon stone  
nestling in her arms  
and no whispers in her ears.

It's all silent.  
It's all still.  
The stingers have long since left her body  
but they still throb.  
The poison's still in her flesh.

She can't dig it out.  
She can't bleed it out.  
She can't sleep it out either  
but she'll try.  
She'll try.  
because she doesn't think she's wrong.  
She doesn't think he's wrong.  
The road that let her out of chains  
and certain death could not be wrong.

He gave her her freedom, her life,  
her name. It can't be a mistake.  
She's sure; it can't.

She just has to believe  
he'll come back one day:  
the antidote to this poison  
inside her.


	7. 7

This particular poem is also written for the Call it Heads or Tails Challenge, 4a.2 (heads) – write a fic with the prompt "aspire", and for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #035 – wealth.

* * *

 **7.**

Once upon a time, it would've been  
an impossible dream:  
a pauper to princess tale.  
But now, it's right in front of her  
and all she can say is no.

Perhaps, once upon a time ago,  
she'd have accepted those words:  
their meaning, their state  
but now she's long since known  
that's not her place to go.

He was a friend, once upon a time,  
and that was something she'd never dreamed  
as it was, and now he's offered more  
and, really, it's too much.  
It's the real, impossible dream  
even though he's asked.

There isn't another answer there  
but no.


	8. 8

This particular poem is also written for the Call it Heads or Tails Challenge, 4a.3 (tails) – write a fic with the prompt "believe", and for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #041 – steadfast.

* * *

 **8.**

She knew the time had come  
for her to go. The dream was done.  
There was a larger world out there  
and she'd walk it  
while they slept, without sleeping  
as the snow fell.

Winter marked the end: not their lives.  
This isn't a tragedy yet.  
It doesn't ever have to be.  
A sad dream, perhaps  
but more likely bittersweet  
like farewells must be.

And they were both prepared  
to face their worlds themselves.  
He in his dragon haven,  
she down below…  
She saw it bright and clear  
and she believed in what she saw.

She knew the time had come  
for that farewell.


	9. 9

This particular poem is also written for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #034 – bouncy.

* * *

 **9.**

The child  
was so different from the father.  
Bouncy where he was calm,  
babbling where he was quiet,  
impatient where he was wise…

All children were like that,  
she supposed. But she knew few children  
at all: herself, the new emperor  
with his equally restless and impulsive ways  
that had led to yellow splashed  
on the palace roofs and halls.

If Kai had a brush and paint,  
he'd probably to the same  
but there was no castle canvas here:  
just nature and him and her.


	10. 10

This particular poem is also written for the Freeverse Poetry Boot Camp, #024 – room.

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 **10.**

Her life is just a little cage with bars  
she sometimes peers through.  
They're dreams that will never come true.  
Dreams that are small and unformed,  
building only on what she knew.  
Beyond the mountain was a larger world:  
a black space, that she could shape,  
shadows she could only mould  
into shapes she knew.


End file.
